


Saline

by phalangine



Category: Constantine (TV), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Convenient Human Sacrifice, Getting Together, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 20:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15202601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalangine/pseuds/phalangine
Summary: Sometimes you’ve got to kill a man to tell him you love him.





	Saline

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jessicamiriamdrew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicamiriamdrew/gifts).



> a few things:
> 
> 1) this doesn't fit with the show’s timeline. i did try, though!
> 
> 2) i didn't put this in the tags because it's not the end game, but the fic does start with john and sara having a casual sexual relationship, which is part of why the fic is explicit
> 
> 3) constantine and legends have very different tones, and i'm sorry in advance for the frankenstein's horror i wrote using them

John rolls onto his back with a sigh. He’s sweaty and breathing hard, but he manages to pull together a smirk. 

“If you thank me, I won’t invite you back,” Sara warns. She’s sweaty and breathing hard, too, though, and she knows he’ll recognize it as a joke- and an offer.

Sure enough, his expression shifts into something curious. “That’s an interesting thing to say,” he says slowly. “You expecting me to stick around, luv?”

Shifting onto her side, Sara folds her arms across her chest. “We let a bunch of demons out. You’re a demon hunter-“

“Exorcist, actually. I’ve a wide array of skills.”

“-so of course you’re sticking around,” Sara continues, pointedly ignoring the blatant come-on in John’s voice. “The only question is whether you’re hanging around the ship on your own or hanging around here. With me.”

John narrows his eyes, and Sara can feel him thinking.

She talks to him like they go way back- and they do have a history, and they do have a once in a lifetime sort of bond- but she and John aren’t exactly pen pals. They certainly aren’t soulmates. She knows the broad strokes of who he is and what he’s like, but she doesn’t know any of the details that make him who he is. She can’t be sure what the line between his brows means or how long is too long for him to think something over.

So she waits. That’s one thing she knows she has over him. Sara can be patient.

John, who’s constantly lit up like a live wire, not so much.

It doesn’t take long for John’s lips to quirk up on one side.

“I’m not one to turn down a shag, much less one with somebody who’s as, ah… compatible with me as you are.” His smile grows, finally curling up both sides of his lips. “Friends with benefits, eh? Been a while since I had one of them.”

Sara smothers the impulse to sigh and settles for rolling her eyes as she gets to her feet and reaches for her robe. “Feel free to enjoy the novelty. I’m going to go make use of the ship’s one bathroom.”

John sits up sharply. “You were serious about that?”

She doesn’t answer aloud, just throws him a wink.

His groan follows her into the hall.

 

xx

 

Time passes, and missions come and go. Sara has good, meaningless fun with John in her bed- among other places- and tentatively flirts with Ava on her own time. It feels like there’s something between them, something so warm and full of potential that it makes Sara’s heart beat fast, but it’s delicate. Too delicate even to name it.

John has known from the start that Sara isn’t looking for him to stay in her bed forever, and she wouldn’t have started anything with him if she’d thought he couldn’t be casual about it, but she’s still relieved that his reaction to the possibility of an impending end to their arrangement is a nod and a, “You just let me know when you hear the fat lady start to sing, luv. I’m sure I can find a new place to lay my head.”

She should have known that wouldn’t be it.

Mostly he just cracks bad jokes, which she Sara can deal with, but then, after a while, once it becomes clear that Sara’s isn’t just waiting to see if Ava will bite- that she’s invested in a future that sees the two of them together, at least long enough to see if it sticks- he starts asking questions.

“What’s it feel like?” he asks once after a fairly tame mission in the 900s.

He’s got her on her back, two fingers inside her, and Sara doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.

“Damn it, John. Can’t you just focus on what you’re doing-“

“Your lady friend,” he says, talking over her. He thumbs her clit for good measure, and Sara bites her tongue. “The one in the suit.”

Swallowing thickly, Sara says, “Ava.”

John nods. “That’s the one. What’s it feel like when you’re with her?”

Sara blinks at him, trying to make sense of what’s happening, but the pieces just won’t fit.

Since when does John Constantine care about feelings?

“Is now really the best time for this?” Sara asks.

“You and I both know you’re in love with her,” John says, as if Sara hadn’t said anything. He presses a third finger into her, making it hard for Sara to follow when he says, “You and I, we’ve got a good thing, but it’s not love. We both know it. How can you tell the difference between her and me?”

It’s a good question, probably, and John’s watching her with an intense look on his face like he’s waiting for her to tell him something important.

“I feel… good,” she says. It’s a weak start, but John nods. He’s slowly moving his fingers in and out of her, patiently working her open as he brushes his thumb over her clit, and Sara has to force herself not to grab his hand and hold it in place so she can just get off.

Swallowing, she says, “She scares the hell out of me. Demons, magic-” John dips his head and runs his tongue over her clit, and Sara forgets what she was saying.

John, though, does not. “Demons and magic what?” he prompts as he pulls back.

Casting her mind back, Sara tries to find the thread of her last thought. “I can fight them,” she says. “Or I can find something that can. But I can’t fight Ava. And I don’t want to.”

John nods, continuing this strange, somber mood by not cracking a joke.

“Why are you so interested?” Sara asks. 

She’s certain this will push him into saying something flippant, but he just casts his eyes down to where he’s working her open. 

“Just… taking in the sum of my life, I suppose,” he says slowly. “Your ship won’t let me smoke, so I’ve got to do something, haven’t I?”

There it is.

At least if John isn’t reflecting, he might get on with fucking.

 

xx

 

Things change when they find themselves fighting a demon that can only be defeated by a sword locked behind a door that can only be opened with blood.

A lot of blood.

An entire, single human’s worth of fresh blood.

“We can’t,” Sara says, shaking her head. “We don’t sacrifice people.”

Ray winces. “I know, but what can we do?”

He sounds as lost as Sara feels, as lost as they all are, and she has to clench her teeth and just breathe for a long moment. 

John, who’s been oddly quiet, clears his throat. “I may have an alternative.”

Sara and the rest of the Legends turn to face him. 

“What kind of alternative?” Jax asks.

John scratches at his jaw. “Say we could give the lock the sacrifice of human life it’s demanding, but we wouldn’t have to kill anyone.” He pauses, tilting his head and pulling a face. “Well, we would, but not permanently.”

Sara feels her grip on the edge of the table get harder. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Plan b,” John says, too lightly for it to be as casual as he wants it to sound. “I know a bloke.”

Zari snorts. “Of course you do.”

“I haven’t seen him in a while, so it’s possible he won’t have what we need, and I doubt he’ll be happy to see me,” John continues, ignoring her. “That said, unless he’s changed completely, he’ll help us.”

 

xx

 

Chas Chandler is huge. He’s even bigger than Ray, but unlike Ray, who hasn’t met a stranger he didn’t want to befriend, wariness is pouring off Chas in waves.

Sara spares a moment to wonder what the hell John told him before she refocuses on the present.

For a friend of John’s, Chas is surprisingly well-mannered. He greets them all with warm handshakes, his low voice rumbling pleasantly as he introduces himself, nodding amiably as the Legends do the same, and for the moment, Sara is willing to overlook the strange vibe he’s giving off.

When Gideon says hello, Chas has a moment of obvious confusion before he stops looking around and says, “Please tell me that’s some sort of computer and not a spirit trapped in here.”

“My Name is Gideon. I’m the AI that controls this ship.”

“Thank God,” Chas mutters. “Good to meet you, I think.”

“Likewise, Mr. Chandler.”

There’s a fleeting moment of silence that feels like it could stretch into awkwardness, but Chas breaks it before it can.

“So,” he says, drawing the word out as he glances over them, “I got a message from John saying you need to kill someone for the greater good.”

Sara winces. “I’m not sure I’d put it quite like that.”

Chas shrugs. “You need to unlock a door, and the key is blood. I can help with that.”

“How?” Ray asks. “Unless you’re immortal-“

“Just the opposite, actually.” There’s something like a smile at the corner of his mouth. If smiles can be grim. “It’s a long story, and it doesn’t matter anyway. The point is, you need to kill someone, and I don’t mind dying if it will keep demons off my planet.”

“‘Cause that’s a normal thing to say,” Zari observes.

Chas huffs a weak laugh, his expression shifting into something close to amused. “If you’re looking for normal with John Constantine around, you’re gonna be looking for a long time.”

That, at least, is something Sara and the others can agree with.

“Speaking of,” Nate breaks in, “where  _ is  _ John?”

“Preparing the spell,” Sara replies, just as Chas says, “Procrastinating.”

At her sharp look, he shrugs. “If John wanted to be here, he’d be here.”

She can’t say he’s wrong.

There’s something off about this, though. Something John and Chas aren’t telling them. She doesn’t like it, but they’re on a tight schedule, what with the end of the world looming. Whatever the two of them are hiding, the Legends will just have to handle it when the time comes.

“All right, people,” Sara says, gesturing for the Legends and Chas to get seated. “Let’s open that door.”

 

xx

 

Sara and the others lead Chas through the dungeon, trusting John’s assurances that he can navigate to them when it’s time.

The Legends say little as they make their way to the heart of the room, the weight of what they’re about to do lying heavily over them, smothering the urge to speak before anyone can so much as open their mouth.

They reach the locked door without incident, which is unprecedented good luck for the Legends.

Sara doesn’t trust it.

Chas walks up to the door and looks it over. He doesn't need to be warned not to touch it; he keeps his hands clasped behind his back, taking in the ornate carvings with his eyes alone.

He’s still looking it over when John arrives.

He’s got a knife in one hand and a small drawstring bag in the other.

“Ready?” he asks, not looking at anyone in particular.

Chas turns around, and he absolutely is looking at someone in particular. “I’m guessing from the blade this is gonna be a slow one.”

“There’s a specific ritual,” John says as he looks down at the knife. “Not much wiggle room on this one.”

“Ah, yes. The ritual. Can’t do magic without some of that,” Chas replies. His voice is still a soft rumble, but there’s a tightness to his expression that Sara doesn’t like. “Go on, then. Throw your sand. The sooner I get the knife, the sooner this ends.”

John finally looks up from the bag. “Sorry, mate, but it’s a ritual sacrifice. Not a suicide.”

“Great,” Chas says, unaffected. “Who’s killing me?”

“I am.”

Chas laughs. Loud and long and a little wild, the sound echoes through the chamber as he tips his head back and lets himself laugh.

Sara and the others don’t say anything, but she knows she isn’t the only one whose hand tightens around her weapon.

“Magic really isn’t subtle, is it, John?” Chas asks once his laughter has stopped.

John shakes his head, expression dark. “I suppose it’s not.”

Chas lifts a hand, exposing his pulse point, then pointing to his neck as he asks, “Wrist or throat?”

“Wrist.” Without looking away from Chas, John says, “Sara, luv. Do us a favor and fetch that gold jug, would you?”

Concern growing, Sara nevertheless gets the jug and hands it over, making sure to catch John’s eye as she does.

“Don’t worry,” he tells her. “This won’t be the first time I’ve killed Chas.”

Chas snorts. “Not by a long shot.”

Something in the atmosphere has shifted, and Sara doesn’t linger by John’s side, instead returning to her pre-assigned spot to watch the ritual.

John closes his eyes and says something in a language Sara can’t identify. The words roll off his tongue in uneven waves, the rhythm so syncopated it must be intentional.

Then he stops.

Slowly, he reaches into the bag, only to jerk his hand back out and fling the contents- some sort of sand, maybe, as Chas predicted- at Chas’ chest.

John had no sooner opened his hand than he’s begun to chant in that other language. He speaks quickly this time, voice louder, his words more like lashes than waves, and the sand begins to glow.

Chas doesn’t react. He just stands his ground, quietly watching John.

Raising both hands and closing his eyes, John shouts three quick syllables, then claps his hands together.

The sand disappears.

Opening his eyes again, John looks back at Chas. “All right, mate. Now I just need you to kneel down in front of me.”

“Not the first time you’ve said that, is it?” Chandler asks lightly as he crosses to John and kneels on the unforgiving stone floor.

“Fuck’s sake, Chas.”

“What? You just said I have to die.”

John doesn’t reply for a beat. “I have told you that, haven’t I?”

Chas doesn’t reply, doesn’t even move, but John nods at him anyway.

Sara casts a curious glance at the nearest Legend- Nate- to check if she’s the only one who thinks this is weird. Nate doesn’t look back at her, but from the way his face is scrunched up, it’s safe to say he’s as lost as she is.

She turns back to John and Chas when she hears John resume chanting, once again in that language she can’t place.

He’s holding the knife now, which is glowing softly, like he means to use it.

Because he does.

Yet Chandler is still kneeling quietly, his eyes fixed on John. There’s something almost intimate about it, the way he isn’t following the weapon or even breathing fast.

His eyes are on John, like John is all he needs to see.

John puts a hand on Chas’ head and bends forward, saying something against Chas’ head that’s too low for Sara to make out.

Then he whips the knife forward and slices through Chas’ throat.

John moves fast, abandoning the knife in favor of shifting the jug and pressing the lip just under the wound.

Bleeding out takes time, and it goes against every instinct Sara has recovered not to intervene and try to save the man bleeding out before her.

She knows the other Legends feel the same way, and they don’t have a life with the League of Assassins to prop up their resolve.

John and Chas don’t seem bothered, though. John strokes the side of Chas’ head, combing his fingers through Chas’ hair.

Chas closes his eyes and bleeds.

When he finally dies, John gently lays him on his back.

“Show time, everybody,” he says crisply, smoothly switching gears. “Time to unlock this door.”

 

xx

 

Hours later, the sword, the Legends, and Chas are all aboard the Waverider, and the Waverider, in turn, is safely flying through time.

John disappeared the moment they got inside, silently taking the sword with him but leaving Chas’ body with Mick, who’d agreed to carry it back to the ship.

Sara doesn’t expect John to come to her room that night, and he doesn’t.

 

xx

 

The odd thing is, he doesn’t come back after that, either.

 

xx

 

The ride back to Chas’ time takes longer than the original journey out. Releasing the sword sent out a wave of magical energy or something, which John had already warned them would likely interfere with the time stream.

He explained how, but Sara’s brain shut off after the first thirty seconds. Something about science and magic mixing just makes her want to stop thinking and start drinking.

Even if the return trip hadn’t been extended, it still would have been long enough for Chas to come back to life.

Barely any time at all has passed before Gideon alerts them that he has vital signs and is getting up, and the Legends rush down to check on him.

They find Chas standing up in the middle of the room, slowly rolling his neck to get out the kinks. His neck and clothes are still bloody from the initial spray, but the wound is gone.

When he opens his eyes, he quirks a smile at them.

“Hope I didn’t miss anything too exciting.”

The Legends have met other immortals. Savage, Kendra, and Carter were made that way by magic, same as Chas. But there’s something different about Chas.

Maybe it’s the lack of an evil murderer hellbent on destroying the planet in pursuit of making Chas love him.

Maybe it’s the fact that Chas, unlike the others, isn’t pursued by fate.

Maybe it’s Chas’ sigh when he looks down at his clothes and realizes he didn’t bring spares.

“I don’t suppose you guys have anything I could borrow until I get home, do you?” he asks. “I don’t want my daughter to see me like this.”

Sara glances over at Zari, who looks as curious as Sara feels.

People like them tend not to have much family.

“I can do you one better, Mr. Chandler,” Gideon replies. “If one of the Legends shows you the way, I can make you some extra clothes for the journey.”

“You said your name’s Gideon, right?” Chas asks.

“Correct.”

“I appreciate the offer, Gideon, and I think I’ll take you up on it.”

“Very good.” It’s hard to tell, but Gideon seems to like Chas. “Mr. Jackson, if you would?”

Jax nods and gestures for Chas to follow him out, which he does.

The two of them rejoin the rest of the Legends a little later in the common area. Chas has not only changed into fresh jeans and the softest flannel Sara has ever seen. He’s also washed up, leaving no trace of his earlier death.

Zari invites him over to join them for a drink, and when she jokingly hands him a glass with her special “that was fucked up” tea in it- clearly catching him off-guard when he throws it back and it doesn’t burn- he shrugs and holds out his cup for a refill.

“It’s not gonna knock me out like I’d want, but it’s still good,” he tells her.

She nods her understanding as she pours him some more. He drinks it normally, quietly taking in the multiple overlapping conversations the Legends have going.

When he finishes, Ray leads Chas to the food replicator.

“It can make whatever you want,” he says.

“Jesus, that’s dangerous.”

Sara misses what he gets, but whatever it is, it relaxes him enough that he’s soon sprawled across his chair, long limbs arranged comfortably.

Nate asks Chas how often he hits his head.

Chas snorts and tells him almost never- he knows to duck.

Sara tunes the conversation out for a while, content to listen to the happy hum of their voices and drift.

It isn’t until she tunes back in and discovers that Jax and Chas have started up a lively discussion about electric car parts that Sara realizes John still hasn’t joined them.

 

xx

 

John’s absence continues for what counts as days on the ship, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

It was only a matter of time before someone brought it up.

“He really hasn’t come to see you?” Ray asks over what they’re calling breakfast. “Not even once?”

Chas shrugs. “This isn’t the first time I’ve died, and I’ve got a few more lives in the tank. He knows I came back- if I hadn’t, one of you would have gotten him.”

“How can you be okay with that?” Jax asks. “Aren’t you guys friends?”

Chas tilts his head, considering. “We’re friends, yeah. I’ve known John a long time. Long enough to know when he’s being cruel and when he’s just being John.”

Mick raises his brows. “So, a dick.”

“Basically.” Chas must sense that they aren’t following because he lets out a breath and lays his cutlery down. “I know why John is the way he is. I don’t like it, and I make sure I let him know when he’s out of line. But he is my friend, and I know he isn’t keeping his distance to punish me.”

“How do you know that, though?” Ray presses. “You haven’t talked to him since he, you know…”

“Killed me?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I don’t need to. Not about this.”

There’s something about Chas’ certainty that rubs Sara the wrong way.

Most things have since she realized John’s hiding behind magic.

Literally. He used magic to lock the door so even Gideon can’t open it.

“Are you sure?” Sara asks, getting to her feet. “I could go get him.”

Gideon will forgive her for breaking down a door if it’s for the higher purpose of making John uncomfortable.

He swears he isn’t smoking, and Gideon says he hasn’t lit up while on the ship, but somehow, he still constantly smells like he’s just come in from a smoke.

Sara knows a con when she smells one.

Chas shakes his head. “No need.”

“Really,” Sara insists, moving toward John’s quarters. “It’s no trouble at all-”

“Don’t.”

He doesn’t say it loudly. He doesn’t say it angrily or threateningly or even sharply. But the weight in his voice stops her cold.

“If I thought John needed to be bullied, I’d do it myself,” he explains. “He doesn’t, so I haven’t.”

Sara pauses, torn between the urge to shake John into behaving and the recognition that Chas probably knows better. “If you’re sure…”

“He’s my oldest friend,” Chas says, cutting her off, and there, finally, comes some anger. “I know who and what he is. Forcing John is like spitting into the wind. You can do it, but it won’t work the way you want.”

Apparently done- with his meal and the conversation- Chas silently gets up, takes care of his dishes, and walks away.

Silence falls in his wake, growing heavier and heavier until Nate says, “Hey. Did he eat all his pancakes?”

“Dude,” Zari whines. “That’s so gross.”

“What? It’s not like he licked his plate before he put the pancakes on it. He didn’t even butter them!”

“Are you seriously saying you’d eat off his plate?”

Nate pauses. “I guess?”

“That’s messed up,” Jax says.

“Shut up! I’m being eco-friendly. Ray, back me up.”

“No can do,” Ray says brightly. “But you can have some of mine.”

Nate makes a face. “I’d literally rather eat dirt than try to digest one of those gluten-free monstrosities.”

Ray opens his mouth to defend his monstrosities, and Sara lets the sounds of her crew arguing good naturedly wash over her. Whatever John is doing, he’ll have to stop eventually. They’re rapidly approaching the right time, and Chas will leave.

Unlike John’s friend- his oldest friend, according to Chas, which makes this even more of a mess- Sara isn’t inclined to let John be.

 

xx

 

Something big is happening.

It wakes Sara in the middle of the night cycle.

She doesn’t know what it is or why it’s happening. She doesn’t know if it’s good or bad or something else. But it’s happening, and it matters. She can feel that much.

Finding the source of the feeling isn’t difficult. She just has to walk around until her feet take her to the captain’s office where the light is on and people are speaking.

There are two voices. John’s smoky purr and Chas’ deep rumble.

“-think it would matter,” John’s saying.

“Of course it mattered,” Chas snaps. “First you went off with Zed without telling me. Then you ditched her to run off with that angel with the plan to destroy humanity. I think. Nobody’s really explained that one to me. But you stopped him in the end, didn’t you, John? Only you disappeared completely the second you did!”

Chas’ voice, which had been rising, is soft when he says, “I thought you were dead.”

“It’d take more than a wayward angel to stop me, mate.”

“I know you’re deflecting because you’re uncomfortable, but could you do something other than cracking wise? I don’t feel like getting up.”

“Why would you get up?” John asks. “You gonna hit me, mate?”

“Actually, I thought I’d take a page out of your book and just leave.”

John doesn’t reply for a long moment. When he does, his voice is somber. “I deserved that.”

Chas lets out a frustrated groan. “It isn’t about deserving, John. People don’t work like that. We don’t have scales inside us constantly weighing what people have done to us against what we’ve done to them.”

“Don’t we?”

“No, we don’t. I don’t. Zed certainly doesn’t. Your friends here… They don’t.”

“What if I do?” John asks, challenging. “What if I do live with a scale in my chest, always keeping track of the things I’ve done?”

“Then I’d ask if the scale is accurate. Does it keep count of the people you’ve saved? Or does it just keep getting heavier the more guilt you accumulate?”

“That’s not the point-”

“You’re right. It’s not. Because the way you are now, you’re too deep in your own misery and self loathing to want anything else.” Chas’ words are cutting, but he just sounds sad. “You’re so used to getting hurt that you’ve started hurting yourself just to do it faster than anyone else can.”

“Now, Chas…”

“I told you I’d always be your friend,” Chas interrupts. “That night back in England, the one when we decided to come to the States… I wasn’t lying.”

“That wasn’t all you said, though, was it?” John presses.

Chas is quiet for a long moment. “No, it wasn’t,” he says around a sigh. “I meant the rest, too. Didn’t mean to say any of it, but I wasn’t lying.”

“Then why?”

“Why what?”

“Why-”

Something creaks- John sitting on the desk and shifting, maybe?

“Why’d you want to leave? If you meant it, why didn’t you stay?”

“I told you I love you, John,” Chas says slowly. “But you never said anything back. What was I supposed to do? Keep following you around, begging for scraps knowing it was all I’d get?”

Sara hears something rasp, like hands over a beard.

“I love Renee, and Geraldine makes me happier than I ever thought I could be.”

“But?” John prompts.

“No but. If I had my way, I’d go back to them and live out the rest of my life being Geraldine’s father and Renee’s husband.”

Another creak. “So what’s stopping you?”

“You are.” Chas laughs, soft and sad and short. “You never said it back, John, but you never said no either. Scraps aren’t enough for me, but they were enough to keep the hope alive, I guess.”

“Mate…”

“I just need an answer, John. You’ll have me regardless. I can’t go back to driving a taxi like I don’t know what’s going on in the world, and I can’t fix my marriage. So I’m not going anywhere. But I need you to say it, John. One way or the other. I need you to tell me where you’re at.”

Sara holds her breath, waiting for John to reply, but he doesn’t. The silence stretches, growing more taught as the seconds tick by. John says nothing.

A full minute passes, and Sara starts to wonder if holding her breath was such a good idea.

Then she hears fabric rustling, springs squeaking, as one of them gets to his feet.

“This is a new low, John,” Chas says evenly. “Even for you.”

Sara hears Chas’ footsteps and quickly makes her way to a fork in the hall, slipping into the shadows of the side Chas won’t take.

He passes quickly, attention fixed straight ahead. He doesn’t so much as acknowledge that there’s a second hallway.

For a moment, Sara considers going back and checking on John. She may not be an expert in relationships, but she knows a mess when she sees one.

And that? Was a disaster.

She doesn’t do it, though. She isn’t sure why, but as she makes her way back to her room, she knows it’s better not to interfere.

 

xx

 

John and Chas are both conspicuously missing at breakfast.

And lunch.

And dinner.

Gideon assures her that they’re both alive and not in any mortal danger, but Sara knows enough about people to know that mortal danger isn’t the only kind that matters.

She’s dressed for bed but considering a trip to John’s quarters when he saves her the trip.

“You were there last night,” he says the second she lets him in. “You heard us.”

There’s no point pretending otherwise. “Some of it.”

John squints at her like he’s trying to put together a puzzle. Then, without warning, he closes his eyes and lets out his breath in a rush. “Why can’t I say it?”

Sara bites her cheek, holding in the urge to be sharp with him. He looks as lost as she’s ever seen someone. “Say what, John?”

“What do you mean, ‘Say what, John?’ Say that of course I bloody love him!” John snaps. “That I have since before I knew I could? That loving him was what reassured me that my heart worked? That I’m a selfish bastard because I’ve loved all sorts of people, but I don’t want him loving anyone else? That I’m an awful man and not about to get any better, and I’m probably gonna die horribly, but I want him to be mine before I go?”

In a rare display of restraint, John’s mouth clamps shut after that, and Sara finds herself grateful to whatever impulse stopped that flood of confessions before it got more graphic than she can handle.

“It’s supposed to be easy, isn’t it?” he asks, flipping from loud and to a whisper. “I told Annie I loved her all on my own, and I didn’t know if she’d say it back. I know Chas isn’t going anywhere. I know it would make him happy if I told him. But I can’t. And I can’t even lie about it and give him some peace that way.”

He plops down on the edge of her bed, miserable and confused, and for the first time, Sara gets a sense of just how bad things are in John’s head.

She sits down beside him and tries to think of something to tell him, but she’s got no idea. This isn’t a problem she’s ever had.

John doesn’t seem to expect an answer. He just sits there, glaring at his hands.

He’s so vulnerable, she can’t help but reach up and brush a bit of hair off his forehead.

John looks over at her like he suddenly understands something, but Sara wasn’t trying to tell him anything.

“Didn’t think you’d be up for it now,” he purrs, rapidly switching gears and leaning in for a kiss, “but I suppose next to a mental hospital after a bit of possession, this is downright luxurious.”

Sara doesn’t mean to do what she does next, but she does it anyway.

“Bloody hell!” John yelps, one hand flying to his forehead. “Did you just  _ headbutt _ me?”

“Yes, I did,” Sara tells him, sounding more confident than she feels. “We are not having sex so you can forget your problems.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re making that man miserable!”

“I make everyone miserable,” John points out in a sad attempt at levity.

Sara gives him a flat look. “We’ll reach his time soon, John. Something tells me you aren’t going to be able to fix this if you haven’t said something by the time he steps off the ship.”

 

xx

 

Chas is at breakfast the next morning. He looks like hell, but he makes no mention of the day he was missing, and the Legends don’t push.

John is nowhere to be seen.

Sara can’t say she’s surprised.

Nor is she surprised that when they land, John still hasn’t shown up. She’s disappointed, sure, but she isn’t surprised.

Neither is Chas, from the way he shakes his head.

“It was good to meet you all,” he says as they gather for their goodbyes. “If there’s a next time, though, I’d appreciate it if I didn’t have to die.”

That gets a chorus of agreement, Chas apparently having managed to befriend the Legends while Sara wasn’t looking, and with a few final handshakes and claps on the back, he turns and walks out.

“John’s really not going to say anything?” Ray asks.

“Apparently,” Zari says with a sigh of annoyance.

“Idiot,” Mick grunts.

Nate and Jax nod.

Sara doesn’t disagree, but before she can tell them it isn’t their problem, John comes tearing into the room.

“Hold that bloke!”

“He already left!” Nate shouts, helpfully pointing to the sole exit.

John doesn’t pause, just adjusts course and sprints after Chas.

There’s a second after he disappears when no one moves. Then it becomes a mad dash to get a good view.

Sara, by virtue of being an assassin with faster reflexes and a willingness to use her elbows, snags a prime spot. She hears the others jostling behind her, but her attention is fixed on the men facing off on the ground.

Chas’ arms are folded, his posture stiff.

John is talking with his hands, clearly not getting his meaning across and growing more and more agitated.

He abruptly stops waving his arms and tries stepping closer.

Chas holds his ground.

Maybe that’s a good sign- staying still means he isn’t backing away. But maybe it’s a bad sign- staying still means he isn’t coming closer.

Sara doesn’t know him well enough to know how to read him, and it’s making the situation even more nerve wracking than it already was.

“Come on, John,” someone whispers.

On the ground, John throws his hands up.

“Shit!” someone else hisses.

John grabs the front of Chas’ shirt and yanks him closer, stretching up to kiss him.

“He did it!”

“Wait.” Sara holds up a hand. “We don’t know if Chas will accept that.”

Sure enough, John hasn’t gotten much of a kiss before Chas pushes him away.

It isn’t a shove, just a bit of force to put space between them.

Now it’s John standing his ground as Chas talks.

If only Sara could hear what the two of them are saying…

Whatever Chas says, it makes John shake his head sharply. He starts talking, taking a step closer again as he does, getting right in Chas’ space.

He keeps talking, his head tilted back so he can look Chas in the eye. He takes hold of Chas’ shirt again but lower this time.

Chas puts his hands on John’s waist.

And John keeps talking.

He talks for so long that Sara starts to worry that he’s talking too much, only for Chas to cut John off.

Whatever he says makes John look away, and Chas nods to himself and starts to pull away.

John’s hands snap to Chas’ wrists, holding them in place as he looks back up.

He says one last thing, barely more than a couple words, but whatever he says, it’s what finally makes Chas lean in and kiss him.

John latches on immediately, holding Chas in place.

And that’s their cue.

“All right, people,” Sara says briskly. “We’ve had enough of a peep show today. Let’s get ready to leave.”

There’s a bit of half-hearted grumbling, but they do as they’re told.

 

xx

 

By the time John rejoins them, Chas in hand, everyone else is strapped in and ready to go.

“Chas is coming along,” he says. “He’s sort of immortal, he knows a bit about magic, and he knows a lot about working with me.”

“Fine with me,” Sara says. “Welcome to the Legends, Chas. Grab a seat, and try to keep John from blowing us up.”

Chas nods, his expression so close to somber except for the faint smile quirking his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

xx

 

Sara is in the kitchen when John finds her.

He comes over to the counter where she’s buttering her toast, looming beside her, and she can  _ feel  _ his grin.

“Couldn’t fix it if I didn’t say something before he stepped off the ship, eh?”

“Go fuck yourself, John,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“No need for that anymore,” he tells her smugly. “I’ve got Chas now.”

Nate, who’d come in while Sara was talking, pulls a face. “Gross, dude.”

“Oh, don’t you start. I’ve heard all about the things you and that lady friend of yours did.”

“Amaya and I were deeply committed to each other.”

John snorts. “Deeply committed to getting off in meeting rooms, more like.”

Sara sneaks out before they try to drag her into things. As she hurries away, she happens to spot Chas through an open door. He’s got his hands on his hips, glaring at a pile of things on his bed that must belong to John. She pauses just long enough to see him shrug and dump it all on the floor.

_ Ava is going to love this _ , Sara thinks to herself.

She’s right. When Sara tells her, Ava laughs so hard she cries.


End file.
